Somber
by CharmingOwl28
Summary: She was born to a vengeful mother and a lineage she didn't feel good enough for. She thought coming to the Colonies would erase her father's stains. She didn't know a young native man would touch her so deeply. Audrey Ellington is an assassin, and the Templars will learn that very soon. ConnorxOC. Rated M for later chapters. Title may change.
1. Begin

**Chapter I - Begin**

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"I am thoroughly sick of this ship. If I hear one more drunken song from Uncle Abernathy, I will jump into the ocean, Mother." My mother's amused smile did not help my temperament. She continued her knitting. My pout did not move her.

"My little thing, your impatience is shared. I am sure your brothers are going mad being coup up." Mother said, peeking out from under her lashes as I cradled myself to her side. She put down her knitting and strummed her fingers through my hair. Most of it had fallen loose from my bun she had made this morning.

"You should keep your bonnet on, Love. It would give me less work if you did." She laughed. My mother's long fingers curled around the long tresses, the same fiery shade as hers. If it were my decision, my hair would lay at my ears. Mother said that it would happen after she was in her grave. Mother tugged more hair back as Jeremiah stormed his way down to our cabin.

"Mum! The Captain says he's seen the harbor! Come, quick!" Jeremiah left as fast as he came and I slipped off the bed to follow. Mother pulled me back.

"Please Mother, I want to see the harbor." Her hand on my shoulder pulled me further back as she recreated my bun.

"Hold still, child. There-" When her hand slipped out of my hair, I ran from the room and climbed the stairs as quickly as one could, the salty brine of the ocean attacking my nose when I hit the open air. The sky was a tremendous color of orange in result of the falling sun, who cast it's last rays on our desolate ship. What crew the _Nausicca_ had on her was at the port, looking over the railings. Jeremiah and Lachlan leaned over the railing with Uncle Abernathy standing behind them. Both of them shouted excitedly seeing the Colonies for the first time. I could not see any sight of the harbor through the crowds of men. They were packed tightly against one another that left me no room to squeeze through. I went to my uncle who was still staring out at the horizon with my brothers.

"Uncle, may I see?" He did not turn around.

"UNCLE!" I shrieked. The man jumped like a spooked horse. My brothers were still attached to the railing.

"Oh Audy, you scared me there. What is it?" I pointed to the railing. His smiled was sympathetic.

"Wish I could, Dove. These lads aren't moving anytime soon. Perhaps..." His orange eyebrows looked up at the crow's nest of the _Nausicca._ It was empty from where I stood, but I did not see any sort of ladder.

"How do I get up?" I asked. An evil glint appeared in his eyes.

"Why, climbing of course." He left my brothers's sides and walked with me to the base of the nest that was tangled with ropes and other doohickeys. He looked at the beam like he looked at any challenge: he needed another ale to be mad enough to do it. Except I had to do it.

"Uncle..."

"It'll be fine. Just don't tell your mother. Now here," He pointed to the nets of rope of top of the barrels, "is where you start." His bushy orange eyebrows and glazed over eyes did not inspire confidence.

"Are you sure about this?" I didn't want to die before seeing the colonies.

"Sure I'm sure." He grabbed me by my waist to stand me up on the barrel. I teetered nervously as I grabbed the net. I smacked against the base when I stepped into the first hold, but held on tighter as I reached higher. It was rather simple; hand there, foot there and try not to fall to my death. I reached the first rung of some excuse for a ladder when I was hit with wind from behind. I was knocked around silly and barely heard my mother's screeching voice.

"Audrey! What in God's name are you doing?!" I looked down at the specks of people gather around and realized how very painful death would be from this high up.

_Oh, that's far._

"Get her down from there, Captain!" Mother was probably milling about from man to man to climb up to get me. Seeing as I was already this far, I stretched my hand to the next rung and the one after that. It was not easy, but I was almost there despite the wind and my mother's frantic shouts to stop.

Finally, I touched the floor of the crow's nest. I lifted myself as ladylike as I could and sprawled out on the wooden floor. My hands burned from the climb but it was worth it for the sight that greeted me as I peered over the floor to Boston.

It was beautiful, to say the least. The last bit of sun appeared behind the buildings and reflected off the churning waves clashing against the harbor. Even this far out from sea you see the people walking the streets. Oh, how badly I wished to dock and explore.

"Audrey Judith Ellington, you stay right there!" In my own defense, I was going to stay until the gentleman came to fetch me. However, a rogue wind pushed the ship and my small weight was no use for keeping me in the nest.

I slid across the floor against my will. I went airborne.

It was a long fall for me.

AaAaAaA

Despite my bruised skin and wounded pride at being berated by my screaming mother, I was very lucky to be alive and for that marvelous rope that just happen to come loose during my small attempt at flying. What a fun trip. I wish never to do it again.

My mother, still red in the face from her screams, commanded my uncle to retrieve a cab and find rooms for the night. My uncle was still shamefaced from _his_ berating ("for encouraging a girl to think she was bird and flying off the nest" those being her exact words) and wander into the dark streets while Mother kept watch over us.

"Strange, isn't it?" She asked Jeremiah, waving her oriental fan in her face from the humid night air. Jeremiah was only a boy of fifteen and yet he towered over Mother. Jeremiah removed his hat from his dull brown hair and waved it in his face as well and nodded for Mother to continue.

"When I was a girl, my mother would tell me how filthy and depraved the Colonies were. Yet, I see only a few individuals around at night and the streets are quite clean compare to London." Jeremiah nodded in agreement.

"I heard they still let the natives roam the forest. Do you think we'll see any?" Lachlan's excitement was infectious and I must admit _I_ was quite curious as well.

"Yes, Mother, do you think we'll see any? Oh, do you think we could play in the forest and climb the trees? I heard the Colonies were abundant with trees!" For a young girl of London, my interest in flora and fauna much exceeded interest of being a proper lady. This brought _great_ _joy_ to my mother.

"You are still on thin ground with me, child. Ask again when I am in a more generous mood." My mother's scathing tone colored my cheeks a red almost that of my hair, which again had fallen loose. All was not forgiven, it seems.

"Now, see here-" My uncle's voice implied violence might be involved and Mother rushed towards it. My brothers followed at her heels and I was dragged along with Lachlan holding my wrist. I caught a glimpse of my mother's skirts entering a tavern from the smell of the place and stood in the doorway as two men pressed my uncle against the table they were occupying.

"Release him, now." If my mother was not a tiny woman in posh green clothing, looking every bit like a proper society woman from her primped hair to her tapered heels, I'm sure men would find her more intimidating then these two.

"Oy, now they bring some proper British tart and her drunken lack-wit? Master Kenway better appreciate this!" One of the brutes whirled around to face Mother while the other found out Uncle Abernathy was not a man to trifle with.

Uncle's head smashed into the bloke's face, a spray of blood coming from his nose. Uncle Abernathy swung his leg quicker than lightning and knocked his opponent to the ground. The fellow scrambled to his feet while Uncle smashed a nearby bottle down on the table. Blind fury was in the man's eyes and he rushed at Uncle like an untamed dog. Uncle slid to the side and swiped the bottle down, leaving a large gash in the fellow's side. He crashed down to the floor in a heap and that wicked gleam returned to his green eyes.

"So, Master Kenway…" Uncle kicked the man in the side with the wound, smearing blood on the nice boots Mother got for him.

"I ain't tellin' ye nothin'." He spit blood onto Uncle's trousers. Uncle smiled.

"Beatrice, perhaps you could have our friend here divulge his knowledge." Uncle asked. I had completely forgotten her presence in the room and the gentleman who went after her. Unfortunately, the man was not able to render his friend any help.

"Ye think I'll listen to some bitch with a fancy accent." The man sneered with his rotten teeth as my mother kneeled near him. She removed her pluming hat and let her hair tumbled in flaming red waves. The man was clearly caught off guard by her beauty.

"Master Kenway is a dear friend of ours. Our gratitude would be immense if you told us where he was." Mother's voice was a soft coo that she used when around infants (and sometimes on my drunk uncle). The man was entranced.

"I…don't know. He don't tell me 'is plans. Just wait 'or ye Missus." My mother frowned. She moved her palm to his throat.

"Very well, may god have mercy on your soul." In a silver flash, the man took his last breath.

Mother removed her hidden blade.

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	2. Boston

Hey, just wanted to thank everyone who decided to follow this story. I'll try to get one chapter in every two weeks so you guys have an estimate of how long it will take for every update.

Also, I try to use characters who use two languages. So if you see a word you don't understand or I've made a mistake using the language please tell me so I can fix it.

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Chapter II - Boston

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_Three Weeks later…_

"Does it ever stop bloody snowing?!" Lachlan and Jeremiah removed their hats and threw the snow out the door as Uncle drowned in more ale. He was on his sixth mug that evening which made him slightly unbearable.

"No luck?" My entertainment of the day was amusing Uncle with the Irish brogue I've been hearing from the tavern across the way since the beginning of this morning. Lachlan scrunched his red eyebrow at my imitation.

"Fear not, lass. All those fluthering eejits can sure use their gob." I must admit his accent was much better than mine. Jeremiah blinked slowly and shook his head at us.

"Where's Moth-" He began when her voiced floated down to us.

"-I want these floors scrubbed no matter what is. Dried mud or dried blood, if ever the case. I do not deal with complaints from anyone and you will be out that door if one should rise from your lips." Mother marched across the second floor of our new home with two women in tow. Both were dressed similarly to the servants that we had in London but I couldn't recall if Mother had them brought along. They descended the stairs onto the first floor landing if their footsteps were any good indication. Mother was still prattling on about their work when she came into the dining room. She scowled.

"Audrey, stop slouching in your chair," I straighten my position as she pointed to my brothers, "Jeremiah and Lachlan, _please_ remove your coats! You are dripping water all over my floors! And are you dragging _mud_ in?!" It took all my willpower not to cringe at Mother's shrieks. Uncle may be unbearable, but Mother was becoming intolerable! Ever since she killed that man she has been in a foul mood. And my brothers failed attempts irritate her to no end. The boys quickly removed their coats and proceeded to wipe the mud from the floor as Mother placed her attention back to me. _This will go smoothly._

"Audrey, come here." She snapped. I left my seat and straighten the new moss green dress Mother thought appropriate to wear. I could tell Mother wasn't approving it. Her gem-like brown eyes flashed angrily to the point I thought they would turn red.

"Audrey, what in the devil's name is on your skirt?!" Oh, no. I thought I was careful. I looked down at my ruined skirt and stockings that were covered in the mud she had just scolded my brothers for. Now, I could also see the slivers of tree bark snared in the bit above my boots.

"Oh, um, you see-"

"What I see is a filthy little girl who can't listen to what her mother says! Probably rolling around in the mud like some animal..." Her voice was not kind. My cheeks burned as well as my eyes, the tears scrambling to fall from them. Part of me did not want to give Mother the satisfaction of seeing me bawling like an infant. The other part wanted her to know how deeply she had hurt me. She turned away from me.

"Ladies, perhaps it is time for you to begin your services. See to it that my daughter is bathed and her clothing washed. I have other duties to attend to." Mother made a shooing motion with her hand to dismiss us. The servant girls grasped my hand gently and lead me away from her.

AaAaAaAaA

Ayida and Florentina, the servant girls, were very kind to me. Florentina was a young woman from Spain who let me shed my tears over Mother's scolding into her shoulder while Ayida, an African girl only a few years older than I, warmed the water for my bath. Florentina smoothed my hair down from its disastrous bun and cleaned my tears from my eyes.

"Hush,_ nina bonita_. No more tears." Her accent sounded like music, sweet and smooth with an even tempo. Perhaps it was more like she was music from her home, dark honey colored eyes and hair in wild curls, skin like the falling sun. She has the kindest smile.

"Come, _Ti fi_, your water is ready." Ayida smile was kind, if not a bit alarming.

"How come your teeth are black?" Mother would have scolded me for rudeness, but Ayida chuckled.

"Cours theys 're, littla_ se_! Ets like uskin why yous hair red or yous eyes 're blue! Naw in." Florentina helped me unbutton the back of the dress while Ayida removed the pins in my hair. I step into the simple metal tub, feeling my toes gathering the warmth of the water in my bones. Florentina took my dress and dropped it in pan of water with my stockings as Ayida tore herbs apart in a little wooden bowl and smashed it around with oil. With a wooden spoon, she scraped the concoction out into the washer pan that turn the water into a sickly yellow color.

"What is that?" I asked and Ayida disarmed me with her black smile.

"My family's secret for stains, _Ti fi. _Haw else will I get thes mud out? Naw, yous scrub those nails _Ti fi _or amma gunna do et for yous!" Obediently, I retrieved a cloth and scrubbed down my hand which was a sorry mess. When Uncle had fallen asleep earlier in the day, I decided to venture out and climb the tree a few yards away from home. I had failed to remember that it had snowed for many days, creating the slippery mud I had skid in. And the tree was too icy to climb. Such a shame, that.

I have also failed to see any of these 'natives' Lachlan was so excited to see that first day. I do not blame them for retreating from civilize society with all its _rules_. Lord knows I don't want to be a part of it...

"Lost in mind, _Chica_?" Florentina wove her fingers through my loose hair, drowned in water and whatever it was Ayida was pouring on to it. A small drop landed on my hand. Carefully, I placed my hand under my nose and sniffed it.

"Is this lavender?" The girls smiled and took turns passing the cloth back and forth. As they did this, they made comment after comment.

"Such butifull hair and those eyes-"

"Like sapphires! Not her mama's, of course."

"Tha _fanm _makes eh snake's eyes look kind! But thes one, ah such ehn angel!" Ayida pinched my cheek.

"That brother, the tall one, _muy guapo_. Angel, as you say."

"Unmurried, I heard."

"Truly? Oh, C_hica, _you must introduce! We could be _hermanas_!" I must admit I was confused on where the conversation was going between them speaking their home language. I also did not know what _hermanas _were.

"Of course?" Best to let them think in my thirteen years of life I knew many different tongues.

"Oh, sweet C_hica, gracias. _Get out of that water, you look like prune."

AaAaAaAaAa

_Two weeks later..._

Flora and Ida were the best people to have with you on the streets of Boston. While their constant discussion in their home tongues has taught me many words, I still did not have a grasp of their language. And Boston was congested with languages! I've heard French, Italian, Spanish and even German on these streets. Part of me still longs to hear the tongue of the natives of these lands, but that is a dream not meant to be.

"_Chica_, your mama said daysays,_ si_?" Flora cradled a bundle of yellow daisies in her arms. I nodded my head. Flora's smile stunned a nearby man, who tripped into a fish cart. I could barely hear Flora's laughter over the angry crowd that was gathering around the corner from the flower stand. Flora grabbed my hand and tried to tug me away.

"Not our business, C_hica._ Let us go." But I refused to move.

"What's happening, Flora? Why are they so angry?" I asked. Flora's pointed look told me not to ask and not to be stubborn about it. Ida rushed over to us with her shawl flapping in the air and grabbed my other hand. Her golden green eyes were panicked.

"Get thes _ti fi _outta here! Ies seen-"Ida's panic infected the crowd as men and women screamed and pushed each other as gunfire shot through the air. Men in red coats raised their muskets again.

"ARE THEY SHOOTING PEOPLE?!" I shouted over the screams but they were unable to answer me as my hand was torn away from theirs when the people converged on us. The girls called for me over and over but I could make no move toward them, buffeted away by the scared mob. As it happened, I was better able to see two men talking to one another near the soldiers. One pointed towards the rooftops. _Who in the bloody hell would be on the roo-_

My thought died away when my eyes meet the figure of a young man leaping away from his pursuers.

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	3. Girl Meets Boy

Thanks so much for the replies and follows!

**Mamay - **That's what I was going for! Beatrice is harsh and a bit mean at times, but the story later explains why that is.

**LurkingLady - **I'm glad you love the maids. I love them, too. And wishes do come true (though I think Audrey will get more than she bargained for).

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Chapter III - Girl Meets Boy

I honestly could not believe my eyes. The man leapt away with quick velocity but in the few moments that I had seen him, I knew what he was. He was how I had heard everyone described them; dark hair hanging loose in long strands, skin so brown it looked red and clothed in animal skins. I have seen my first Native. And he was getting away.

It was probably foolish on my part to run after a strange man that I had never met, with Mother's warnings about what men would do to a young girl by herself echoing in my mind. But my curiosity always got the best of me, thirsting for a chance to speak with him, to see him. Mother's warning went unheeded.

The crowd was still thick and made maneuvering around difficult. Flora and Ida were still screeching for me, making me feel slightly guilty for what I was about to do to them.

There, an opening. I ducked through the hole between the people and stood at the mouth of an alleyway.

"Audrey! _Chica_, where are you?" My heart squeezed at the thought of leaving Flora behind to worry, but I knew she would not let me pursue him. Not even looking back, I rushed down the alley and pushed around the corner to catch another glimpse of the native. He was far from his pursuers who struggled to climb the buildings as quickly and efficiently as he had. I went down the crowded street to the home I had last seen him on, an atrocity that looked like it could barely hold itself together. Unfortunately, the house was boxed in on both sides and the nearest way around was back down the street. Through the musty window I could see him slide down from the shingles and run to his left, out of my view. No other choice, I went back. The streets were still thick with panicked people running from the soldiers, which made it difficult to move around them. A man herding his children ducked out of my way when I barreled past him, and said some comment about where my mother was. I hopped over a puddle of crushed snow and collided with the group of women exiting a tavern. They gasped and gave dirty looks as I made another turn, going down the street where I had seen him last. My bonnet fell unfastened from my head and I made no attempt to grab it. Doing a quick leap, I skipped on top of pile of crates and jumped onto a swinging sign. Each piece of metal jutting out from the shops and homes helped propel me over the people and quickened my way towards the man.

Finally, I reached the pot shelf someone had placed out to hold flowers one time or another and looked around the corner to find…that he was gone.

Damn it.

I jumped down in an unladylike manner and swivel my head to find him. It was maddening to look for one person in a so heavily populated town. Every glance where I thought I had seen him had turned out to be someone else and the soldiers were not making it easy.

"Have you seen him? Please report at once if you see this man! He is wanted for murder and needs to be brought to justice! Have you seen this man?" He was obviously smart and well versed in English if he was in hiding. But this only made my search even harder.

"You there, girl! Have you seen this man?" A soldier thrust the paper in my face, clouding my sight. I took the paper from his hand to stare at it long and hard.

_I don't think this is what he looks like,_ I thought. The man depicted here had long dirty hair and a face much older than the age I had guess the native to be. But, I _could_ use this to my advantage.

"I've seen this man! He went through some tavern just a few streets down. I thought I saw him getting on a horse, too!" Instead of thanking me, the soldier pushed me to the side and ran away in the direction I sent him. Fool.

But he gave me an idea.

I spied another poster on the wall to my left, depicting the same drawings. Discretely as I could, I walked toward it. Checking over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching what I was doing, I ripped the paper from the wall and tore it to pieces. Perhaps if no one was looking for him, he will reemerge. So I went around Boston and tore down as many wanted posters I could find, still looking for him where I went.

My latest poster made me want to cry from frustration. Where in the bloody blazes was he? I had spotted Ida earlier running like mad to find me still. It was killing me to see her in such distress after she and Flora were so kind to me. But I needed to meet this man! Every instinct was telling me to seek him out and worry about them later.

"Have you seen this man?" Another guard was going around in a small market area. From where I stood, this picture was much better than the last one I saw. At least he was younger.

"Oh ye, oh ye! Word has reached us that the man responsible for today's shooting may have been in disguise! A wig and make-up tin were found near the scene of the crime! Witnesses have described a middle-age gentleman of pale complexion fleeing towards the wharf, rifle in arm!" Cyrus, a town crier, shouted across the market. The soldier looked at the poster in confusion as the crier turn toward to the man beside him. And beside him was none other than the Native. I do not know if it was the intense gaze I had on him or if he merely saw me staring that turned his head. His eyes connected with mine and I …

…could not look away. His eyes were so dark and mournful, yet eerily strong and defiant. Perhaps I should have scolded myself for staring so directly at him but I could tear myself away. But he was equally as bold as I was and returned my look. _Who are you_? I wondered.

It was only when he turned away to speak with the other man that I realized I was holding my breath. It let out in shaking gasp, filling my lungs with cool air to soothe my heated throat. Then the most basic instinct in me forced me to walk forward and speak with him. They had moved; the colonial gentleman led him down the market and had me scrambling to catch up. The people were like a thick layer of molasses with the amount of force it took to go between them.

Blasted! They were gone.

"Are you looking for someone?" The crier stood behind me with a concerned look upon his face. Perhaps he could help.

"Who were those men you were speaking with?" I asked. Cyrus looked around nervously. "What men? I have only been spreading word about the shooting." A glean of sweat poured down his temple, collecting in the hair near there.

"I have no interest in your business with them. I just want to know where they are going." I pleaded with him, creating my best puppy eyes. He took mercy on me.

"Try the harbor. The boy was looking for transportation."

CcCcCcCcCcCcCcCcC

Connor did not understand the girl. He asked Samuel if he knew her.

"Boy, there are _many_ children in this town. How do expect me to know her?"

"You know people, don't you?"

"I know _certain_ people around this fine place. Not all."

"She was staring at me." Samuel smiled at the boy. How naïve.

"Yes, young girls tend to fancy lads your age."

"They cannot be fancy with boys their age?"

"Of course they can, but some women prefer…men with experience."

"Why? I have knowledge that is only for my people. Why would she want to know our secrets? She does not intend to use it to harm my people, does she?"

"…let us move on." Connor decided he will never understand colonial women.

CcCcCc

"Here we are. Speak to the harbormaster and he'll see you home." Samuel pointed towards the ship docked at the pier. Connor nodded.

"Thank you for everything, Sam. I promise to one day repay the favor." Connor swore.

"Oh, I'm counting on it." Samuel grinned at the youth. Connor held out his hand.

"Like this." Samuel's smile widens even more as he shook the Native's hand. Samuel released his hand and journeyed back to the center of Boston.

Connor was …pleasantly surprised by the Harbor. The smell of the sea reigned over the other scents of Boston as he walked along the pier. Burly sailors crowded around him and each carried his own load to the ships. He noticed some of the men embracing women; their faces were squished together in a lip lock that looked to Connor more like smashing their faces against the other than passionate kisses.

"What'cha starin' at, Boy?!" Connor jumped in his skin as he turned around to see a scarred sailor glaring at him. Connor stepped to the side of him and moved past. He honestly didn't need to get involved in another fight.

Connor was about to approach the Harbormaster when he heard a girl scream. It wasn't a loud scream; it sounded breathless and terrified to Connor. He ran back to the alley he heard it coming from, keeping to the shadows to not alert anyone. And there she was. The girl from earlier trapped between two men twice her size.

"Please, I want to go home!" The girl's voice was very proper for her age. He had heard the soldiers speak with the same accent, the one the colonists called posh. But hers was free, odd as it sounds, unlike the tightly controlled language of those soldiers.

One of the men pressed his hand to the collar of her dress, his fingers sliding under to touch her skin as the girl whimpered. Connor's hand curled into a fist.

"Don't worry sweetness, we'll be perfect gentlemen." The fair haired man pressed her back against the wall while his leering friend brought out a knife.

An uncontrollable anger took over Connor, seeing the girl defenseless and begging them to let her go. The fair haired one grabbed her throat when Connor buried his tomahawk into the back of _his_ throat. He let go of her, surprised, and lived only for a few more minutes when the native slashed his neck. His friend came at Connor with the nasty looking knife. Connor dodged him and swung his tomahawk into the man's stomach, leaving an open gash that his blood and intestines flooded through. He fell to his knees and then to the ground. Connor didn't look at the dead bodies at his feet; his entire attention was on the little redheaded girl frozen to the wall.

Her pink lip quivered as she stared at nothing, her dark eyes clouded with an emotion the native boy could not identified. He touched her hand.

"Are you okay?" She did not answer. Her fiery red hair hung in limp curls around her face, and Connor felt the overwhelming urge to brush it aside.

The warm wetness of the blood touched his shoe and he pulled the girl away from the mess. The unmistakable of soldiers marching echoed down the alley. The blood ran loose on the ground and spilled towards the opening where they marched. There wasn't any time to snap her out of this state that she was in and still sneak away before any soldiers were on them. Connor clasped her hand in his and hurried to the Harbormaster.

CcCcCcCc

The passengers were giving them looks. Connor couldn't help the splotch of blood stuck to his boots or the weapon strapped to his side. But they weren't looking at that. They were looking at the girl holding his hand.

Although the sun was starting to set, Connor was better able to look at the girl. The girl's hair was a mess; half of it was still up in one of those colonial hairstyles he had seen many of them sporting. The other half of it fell past her shoulders to her mid-back. Connor was fascinated by the color, though. It the shadows of the dark alley, the hair looked like a dull flame slowly dying. Now, with the sun hitting it just right, it looked like an inferno of long waves of fire.

Her small nose had a bit of freckles bleached on by the sun and he was a bit envious of the fact it didn't look so strange on her. And what he at first thought were brown eyes were actually blue eyes, so dark compared to others he had seen. Then she blinked.

"Thank you." She said, before collapsing in his arms.

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	4. Homestead

Thank you for the reviews and follows guys!

**Sybele - Everyone love naive Connor! And you'll have to contine reading to find out what happens.**

**Sari89 - The romance will be brought! ...not yet though. Mwahahahaha.**

**LurkingLady - That's just how Connor rolls.**

I'll be honest, I was expecting this chapter to be more...revealing? But it turned fluffy on me. That's what I get for listening to love songs.

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Chapter IV – Homestead

I could hear the gulls screaming as my eyelids fluttered open. My cheek was pressed into the soft meat of someone's shoulder.

"Are you awake?" A voice asked. It was male, his words a bit stilted and incredibility deep. Nervously, I moved my face away from his arm and tucked my hair behind my head.

"Yes." I whispered, and peeped out of the corner of my eye at the young man. I lost the ability to breathe. The native boy was much more handsome up close.

His shoulders sagged in relief when he leaned back against the boat. His long fingers ran through his silky dark hair and I blushed at the thought of how it would feel between _my_ fingers. I looked away from him.

"I - thank you again. Curiosity killed the cat, hmm?" I laughed nervously, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks and making me scarlet. I am such a fool.

"I...don't know what that means." The boy said. I chanced another glance at him to see the bewildered look in those dark soulful eyes. Perhaps I won't turn into a puddle if I looked at those _adorable_ freckles.

"It means that I should not have allowed my curiosity to lead me to trouble." I told him, but he still had that confused look on him.

"So why did you?" He asked. A good question. How to phrase this to not make me sound like a stalker?

"Oh, the usual reasons girls do silly things. Boredom, rebellion, a devilishly handsome lad." I replied. He chuckled, making my belly fill and flutter with butterflies. The ocean breeze felt nice on my warm cheeks.

"Wait." I stood up and looked over the railing of the ship, directly seeing the gray water of the ocean. "Where is this ship going?" He joined my side and looked at the horizon. I was having a hard time trying not to look at him.

"Sam Adams told me this ship was head toward my community." The native boy pointed out the crest of a cliff high above a docking port. Clumps of snow dropped off the edge of the cliff, icicles forming where the runoff melted water went. I watched as a frozen spike broke off and dove into the water, creating a large wave to crash into the port. The port itself was slick looking but I was glad to see that no ice was on it.

The land, however, was stocked with trees and snow. The trees were barren due to the winter weather but some of them were still fill with green as we got closer. Mother would have hated living out here. She always said she felt unsettled if there were no crowds about and deplored having to gather her own supplies.

"We'll be docking in a few moments. Gather your things and be off with you." The captain gestured to the passengers to get their belongings in order. The native boy and I stood around and watch.

"Does your family live out here?" He asked. I was a bit panicked. He would probably send me back to Boston if he knew that was where I lived. And he had not answered any of my questions.

"Yes...but we had made a trip to Boston. And I'm afraid my family will not be back yet." I lied, hoping that it would save me a few hours of trying to show him where I lived out in the Frontier.

"I will ask Achilles what to do. You should stay with me until then." The native boy grunted. His fingers wrapped around my wrist. His hand was surprisingly warm despite the cold weather and I could still feel the blood warming my cheeks. What in the Lord's name was he doing to me?

"My name is Audrey, by the way. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself." I hope he attributed my red cheeks to the cold air when he looked at me.

"Connor." Connor. His name was Connor. His name tasted delightfully sweet in my mouth.

"Please to meet you, Connor. I hope I'm not a burden on you." He didn't reply.

CcCcCcCcCc

He was deeply confused by this Audrey girl. It seemed any time he tried to make eye contact with her, she would look away. And she would always blush when they did make contact. He kind of preferred her silence than the awkward looks she gave him.

The boat docked quickly to the port and Connor held on to the girl to keep her safe as the other passengers seethed around them. Audrey clung to his arm as he maneuvers them away from the people and up the snowy embankment towards Achilles' home. The hill felt like it grew another inch of snow, making it more difficult for Connor to climb along with Audrey. She was shaking; Connor could see her body racked with shivers even with her heavy woolen yellow dress. And her boots weren't in the best condition to trample through the mushy snow.

Connor swung Audrey in front of him and grabbed her under her knees, heaving her up in his arms. She clutched the cloth on his shoulder to steady herself in his swift lift. Connor noticed she was blushing even redder now.

"Is that better?" He asked. She only nodded mutely. Colonial girls were strange. He jogged through the snow with her in his arms and quickly approached Achilles' home.

CcCcCc

"You left me in Boston!" Connor sincerely hoped the old man was gawking at the girl next to him. The old black man study the girl quietly before turning to Connor with a bewilder look.

"So you kidnapped a child?" Connor was about to make an angry reply when Audrey spoke up.

"I'm not a child." She pouted. Connor was too irritated to laugh. Achilles looked at the girl with a familiarity that made her squirm. Connor scowled.

"Indeed not, Miss Ellington. And the training we've done here has been all well and good, but experience is a better teacher by far, Connor." The old man stared carefully at the girl, who stared back suspiciously. Connor did not understand what was going on.

"What of my father?" He asked. Achilles snapped his attention back to the native boy.

"Into the wind, I'm afraid." Achilles said.

"We have to find him!" Connor yelled. Audrey flinched back from him.

"And we will…_after_ the house has been repaired."

"But he's out there plotting who knows what." But Connor's desperate plea was not enough to move Achilles.

"And what would you do when you found him? If you found him? You're a boy with a few months of training. He's a man full grown whose spent decades honing his skill." Audrey and Connor watch the old man quietly debating in his head. "If you're going to stand a chance against the Templars, you're going to need these." Achilles reached toward a box on the table and placed it in the boy's hands. Connor gave him a questioning look. He lifted the lid and all confusion was gone, replaced with a look of awe and shock. "Go on. Before I change my mind."

Audrey gasped when Connor removed the vambraces from the box and placed them on his wrist. Achilles smiled knowingly towards her. He lift his finger in a "don't say anything" gesture as Connor admired his blades.

The girl jumped and the men snapped toward the door as a large fellow pounded on it with his meaty fist.

"_Hey! Help!_" Connor ran to the door and yanked it almost off its hinges when the man came up to him and begged, " You, Sir, please! Help! He's going to die!"

"Who?" Connor asked.

"There's no time! Please, come!" Connor was out the door behind him before Audrey even through to follow them. Achilles, however, held her back when she tried.

"You and I need to talk." He said.


	5. Achilles

Hey! Sorry I've been absent for a while but I'm back with a new chapter that I hope you all will like. I don't know how many of you like the Connor POV or be disappointed that it is not in this chapter. But I'm thinking of making the next one entirely in his POV.

**LurkingLady **- Aww, I'm sorry your day was terrible and glad my chapter help cheer you up. Audrey is right at the age for uncontrollable crushing and Connor happens to be her unlucky victim.

Enjoy the chapter!

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Chapter V – Achilles

"How do you know my name?" The old man unnerved me. Perhaps he was an assassin, but it was no mere coincidence that he knew who I was.

"Is it so strange? Your mother isn't a subtle creature nor is that uncle of yours. And your brothers I presume were not taught how to be discreet." The old man stood up and leaned on his cane. He hobbled past me to the door Connor just ran through.

"You cannot have been sure that I was related to them. Perhaps I was just a random girl." I explained. He nodded his head as if in agreement. He stood in the doorframe and looked out at the afternoon sun in the horizon.

"While that is a sound argument, I could tell who you were straight away." I frown at him, deeply confused.

"How?" I ask. He turned his head just slightly, able to now see my face.

"You have your father's eyes." He said. He has now completely unnerved me. I have never even met the man who fathered me. These dark blue eyes are the only feature I received from him. Mother hardly ever speaks of him and she does not say pleasant things when she does.

"You've met him?" I ask so quietly that I thought he might not have heard. But he keeps that keen old gaze on me.

"Emory Ellington and I have crossed paths once or twice. Each time he shows me how much of a bloody bastard he is." The air feels like a heavy fog around me, almost like a rope curled around my neck.

"Is-is he here? In the Colonies?" I ask even though I do not want to know. My father has been my family's shame since I was born.

"No, not at present. I've been keeping an ear to the ground and my contacts busy. He remains in London, for a time." I sigh heavily, feeling layers of weight peel off me. I am not ready to face the man yet.

"So, Connor and you are assassins?" My curiosity never gives up it seems.

"Connor is still a novice. He has a long way to go before he becomes anything. And it seems you are quite charmed by him." Achilles chuckled softly to my embarrassment. My cheeks will be burned red for eternity for the amount of times I've blushed.

"Why have I not heard of either of you? Are you the only ones?" I shoot off quickly, hoping to abate the burn.

"That is a long story. Perhaps you'll be satisfied to know that we are indeed the only ones…at present." He paused for a moment, a look of thought upon his face. He opens his mouth warily, "May I ask a question?"

"Yes?"

"Why are _you_ here? Your entire family for that matter?" He leaned back on the door frame. Oh, how to explain?

"My mother," I began, looking for the words I need to explain as best as I could, "is under the impression it would be safer to train me on land my father has no connections to." Not the whole truth, I must concede, but the only one I feel confidant giving. He eyes me shrewdly.

"Fair enough." He shrugs. He pushes me with his cane out the door and follows behind. Pushy old man.

The old man stands on the landing while he directs me to the stables, which was probably older than him. The horses chew on their hay as I pass by, heading into a shed area where I'm sure the horses reins and saddles are kept.

"There should be a chest in there. You might find it useful." He shouts and I look around for the proffered chest. It's there on the floor, buried behind some crackling leather. I push the mound aside and lift the hatch of the box. Well, I tried to. The chest was locked with a rusty padlock. It was still strong enough to keep me out when I kicked it a few times.

"It's locked!" I shout. Achilles does not reply. I check around the corner and see that he is no longer standing on the landing. He is infuriating.

"Do you need help?" I squeak loudly from surprise as Connor enters the shed from behind me. He has the nerve to laugh.

"Y-You brute!" I kick as hard as I can at his knee but he just bursts with even more laughter. My cheeks are red with humiliation. I shove him toward the chest. "Open it."

Connor continues to chuckle as he inserts his lockpicks into the keyhole. I resist the urge to kick his head. Because he has a rather handsome head.

And it's rather interesting watching him twirl the picks around, one alternating around the other. He started yanking one down in quick succession and instantaneously the lock pops open.

"Can you teach me that?" I ask. Connor looks surprise to find me still standing over his shoulder. The nervous smile he shoots me renders me speechless for a few moments. He has a beautiful smile.

"What is in here?" He asks and I have to knock myself from my stupor to answer his question.

"Achilles said he might have something useful for me. Perhaps a more appropriate dress than this one." Connor looks at me with a look of befuddlement.

"I think your dress is appropriate." What is with this boy and making me blush?

"Oh, t-thank y-you. I m-meant f-for the w-weather." Dear God, I was stuttering! I never stutter!

"Oh." I think his cheeks flushed a bit at the misunderstanding. Good, now I'm not the only one. I help him drag the chest out from under the leather and we lifted the heavy lid together. Then we are consumed with the cloud of dust that floats up and hits our faces. Connor sneezes.

"Bless you." He rubs the dust from his face and braces his elbow over his nose and mouth to brush away the rest. After he accomplishes this, I rummage through the chest. Connor joins me and starts pulling out item after item. Achilles has many pieces of women's clothing in here. I've spotted dresses, cloaks, and…oh my.

"Connor, put that down!" Connor nervously drops the small white shift back into the chest. I flush at the thought of telling him he was holding some lady's…underthings.

"Don't touch that." I warned him. He backs away from the box. Avoiding the underclothes, I shut the lid on the rest of the clothing and what appears to be a curtain all folded up.

"Do you see anything you could use?" He asked.

"Plenty." I assured him. Most of these clothes looked like they were for an older woman, but I might be able to fit some of them and have others fitted. They were nice quality as well.

"I wonder who these belonged to." I murmured. I glanced up at Connor still trying to comprehend what he was holding_. Men. _I seized a pair of stockings and a cloak that I draped over my shoulders.

"I'm going to try some of these on." Connor nodded that he heard. He remained.

"That means go away. So I can put them on." Connor blinked a few times before it sunk in. His skin looked lovely when he blushed.

"Yes! Leaving!" Then he shot out of there like he was on fire. He was so terribly naïve.

I unlaced my winter boots that were doing nothing to keep me warm. The cold air prickled my skin through my thin stockings. Fighting off shivers, I tugged on the thick stockings that I had found. They slid over my legs without trouble and hugged the area above my knee nicely. This was one of the few times I was grateful that I was taller than the other girls my age. I was much warmer than when I arrived.

Though, not as warm as when Connor carried me in his arms. The thought warms my body immensely. Even now, I fight the urge to giggle like mad. My curiosity would have been quickly sated just to see a native, but Connor has piqued it even more.

A cold gust hits my body and makes my toes freeze inside my new stockings. I shove them back inside my boots and lace them up. Someone knocks on the side of the shed.

"Are you done?" Connor asks. I step out to face the weather. Connor held his hands before his eyes, covered to avoid peeking. I took his hand off his face. One dark eye peeked through his lashes. Nervously, he dropped the other hand.

"Connor!" The old man was back, standing in the snow near the landing. I wanted to kick his cane. Annoying old coot. "Why don't you show Miss Ellington around? I'm sure she won't mind exploring the land. Isn't that right, Miss Ellington?" I smiled falsely sweet at Mr. Davenport. Connor didn't comment nor notice the look shared between me and the old man, but gently tugged me along.

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